


A Judas Kiss

by TawnyOwl95



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blasphemy, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29946378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TawnyOwl95/pseuds/TawnyOwl95
Summary: It didn't start as a betrayal....
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 31
Collections: Guess the Author: Round 3





	A Judas Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Good Omens Fic Writer's Workshop Round 3. Prompt 'Betrayal'
> 
> [redundant_angel](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/redundant_angel/pseuds/redundant_angel) for organising 
> 
> and 
> 
> [UnproblematicMe](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/UnproblematicMe/pseuds/UnproblematicMe) for the prompt

It didn't start as a betrayal. 

They already wore clothes, ate and drank, and listened to music. This was just another thing humans did. That Aziraphale and Crowley had decided to try. Together.

Another thing that they were both mildly curious about. There was no harm in just experimenting with the limits and boundaries of bodies. 

And, if Aziraphale were honest, when they first started, he didn't even think of the corporation he'd been issued with as part of himself. 

This was not the case now. 

Now Aziraphale can't control his breathing or his heart beat. He can barely control his grace, and is certain the soft glow in the room is him. He’s aware of Crowley’s own being, velvet black and smooth thrumming just below his immortal skin. If Aziraphale dares open his eyes he will see the shadows of dark wings flickering in and out of focus against the wallpaper.

It’s not just about bodies anymore.

Just bodies could be excused to Heaven. Or could have been, once upon a time. This though, this expanse of shimmering, multi-faceted emotion, for a demon, no less, goes against everything has told Aziraphale he is supposed to be. 

Supposed to want. 

Still, he arches, spine curving up and the heels of his spread legs pushing into the mattress, lifting his hips so he can press deeper into Crowley's gorgeous, talented mouth. 

Crowley throws an arm over Aziraphale's waist. He's wiry, but strong enough to hold Aziraphale down when needed. A serpent’s strength. Familiar but disproportionate to his human size.

They don't say anything. Words are dangerous. Words make the insubstantial real. 

And Crowley's lips and tongue are wetly busy. 

Today it’s just Aziraphale's mouth in danger of betraying them. 

He bites down on his lip. On  _ oh dear God,  _ and  _ please more  _ and (most dangerous of all)  _ my love, my love.  _

Crowley still hears. 

He is relentless, desperate. His silence speaks volumes as he worships like the most dedicated acolyte. Tongue curling, lips tight and slick, a vacuum to swallow everything incriminating back down deep. 

Aziraphale’s fingers slide into hellfire hair. A benediction cupping the back of Crowley’s skull. Aziraphale whimpers, choking down on pleasure and grief all at once, but he can’t let go. Can’t let Crowley go. 

Even though Crowley would be safest well away from Aziraphale: a guardian putting what he loves most in danger. Over and over again.

Instead, Aziraphale holds Crowley tighter. Tight as he can before the inevitable release. 

The room is bathed in soft light as Aziraphale cries out, soundless. 

Crowley's wings flap open like sweeps of feathered night, just as quickly tucked back away out of sight. He flops down on the pillows, eyes alight with a fire that could be distant stars, or the flames of brimstone.

"Alright, angel?" He licks his swollen lips. 

Aziraphale doesn't know. His tongue is a lead weight. He pulls Crowley to him and kisses him. 

A Judas kiss. 

The only being Aziraphale is really betraying here is Crowley. He knows that. Still, he cannot let go. 

  
  
  



End file.
